Our break up makes the world go round
by nomercywritter
Summary: Stiles has debts to pay. So he agrees to work as a personal assistant to the CEO, Derek Hale, during the summer. Neither of them was prepared for what was going to happen.


It happens suddenly as they got used to make things just happen. Even this time after all.

Derek appears just like that. Slowly but surely. With the pose of vulnerability, unprotected. They both know why, but really none of them wants to assume there is an answer that they don't want to know.

Stiles balks in surprise. "Hey. It's weird to see you here."

Derek shrugs. He looks as usual. The same cut beard, the same leather jacket, the same frayed pants, the same white shirt on Saturday night, the same dust in the boots, the same Derek Hale. Damn it, even he still has that stupid look in his eyes, that sad expression.

Summer is over, yeah, they know that. They're done. But they still keep doing this thing. _Their_ thing.

They don't want, but it's a small town. Here and there, wherever, they meet in the corners, in the blind spots. They wait for the other to turn their head and look over their shoulder or in the corner of the eye and say something uncomfortable for both. Because it's still warm, still latent.

"I heard you pay your debts. And you get another job. I'm glad for you, seriously."

Stiles nods as he scratches his neck. "Yeah, thanks. I-uh. My dad helped me a little too. But, yeah, I got a new job."

Derek smiles shyly. Stiles' hands are wet. He still remembers this: the ability to talk with him about anything.

"The pay is a crap compared to my previous work, but my boss is cool. No more sexual harassment or spontaneous sex on the table."

The corners of Derek's mouth rises for a few seconds. He doesn't stop running his hand over the hair, trying to comb it somehow. Then Stiles notices wrinkles on Derek's Henley. He tries not to laugh. Surely Derek has been trying to do things for himself.

Stiles decides to make him easy. "You're not here because you want to ask me to back work with you. So what are you doing here?"

Derek clears his throat. "I was thinking about something that since you left hasn't stopped bothering me."

"Oh. You drove here just for that? I thought that even Derek Hale knew _what_ is a mobile phone and _how_ it works", joked Stiles.

Derek looks away as if he knows what Stiles is talking about. Actually, he _knows_ but the words have long stopped being so important. Not when everything became so comfortable and familiar, so close and intimate between them. And that's the main problem.

Stiles suddenly loses the desire to keep messing; it still matters, still hurts. And Derek knows it, the bastard.

Stiles warns him, "We're not in summer, Derek. We're not in your perfect world, I'm not your employee anymore. Stop pretending you care."

"I'm not pretending anything. And I know that, Stiles." He pronounces his name with difficulty, as if some time ago that name was on his lips constantly, but now it was only a bandage that he can't rip off. "I wish I could wait until next year."

And then everything goes wrong. There are too many loose ends. They're done, aren't they? Because that doesn't feel that way. Stiles is exhauted.

"Please, Derek. Don't.", Stiles begs him barely able to contain himself any longer.

He could forget everything, let it go, forgive him, leave his fears on the floor and hugs him with all his might. He could come back with him to their house, to their future plan together. He could. He could choose to stay. Or he could choose to leave and repeat himself over and over again 'I tried, but I couldn't'. But even that would be hard to do.

Derek is closer, he walks towards it, slowly. As if pain isn't already enough. Suddenly, he is only a few inches from his body and Stiles recognizes the warmth and the naturalness with which their bodies fit perfectly like two pieces of a unfinished puzzle. The world around them begins to disappear and it is as if it never been there. People around are only spectators as if his love was made for movie screens.

"It was you who wanted this. I don't know what are you doing here anyway."

"I never wanted you to stay here because you deserved something better than what I could offer."

Stiles is over.

"You offered me everything Derek! Everything I could want or need! Why would I deserve something more if you always tried to give me everything even I never asked for it?" Derek's impassive face exasperates him. Stiles snorts. "You don't understand. All I wanted was you and that the only thing I never had."

"I'm so sorry, Stiles."

"Yeah, me too. But we belong to different worlds and until you don't be realistic and accept it soon, we can't move forward."

"i don't fucking care about the money, or my house or my car, not even the company of my parents, Stiles! I'm here because I want you. I love you."

"You had six fucking months to love me! To tell me, Derek! And you didn't! I was your employee, I did my work, you paid me and… Please, just move on. It's too late for us, for you."

Derek says nothing. He just stands there, so close, to avoid looking at Stiles' face. "Bye Derek."

After all maybe this is the end. And the world becomes as before: noisy, annoying, meaningless, cold.


End file.
